Cruelty Is In The Eye Of The Beholder
by mybrandofdrug
Summary: The Goblin King waited for Sarah. But Aboveground time is short and life is fleeting, Sarah has little of either left. Her 21st birthday marks the end of everything she thought she, and the residents of the Underground thought they, knew.
1. Prologue

_**AN: All recognizable characters belong to Jim Henson. I own nothing.**_

_**I know most Labyrinth ideas have been done; I still hope I can bring something new to the table. Let me know what you think. Your thoughts are valued and appreciated.**_

_**Just an aside, only the prologue is from Toby's perspective.**_

"You're killing her Toby." The voice echoed, everywhere and nowhere all at once.

A young boy of seven with unruly blonde hair pressed himself into the moist stone wall behind him, "I'm not! I'd never hurt Sarah!"

A dark laugh caressed Toby's hair, ruffling the perpetual mess further. The boy shivered, tucked his knees into his chest and buried his face. "Leave me alone!"

"After all this time, still, you fight me." The shadows gathered at the furthest edge of the dark room, bending and warping around an unseen shape. Somehow, despite the unforgiving darkness of the room, the shape of a man formed, darker even than his surroundings.

The boy saw nothing. His forehead pressed against his knees, his eyes clenched shut as he tried not to cry.

Toby thought of his sister: her unfailing smile and contagious laugh, her animated voice as she told him stories.

Sarah's stories. A line from one of his favourites swam through his young mind and Toby grasped it like a weapon. Sarah said these words were special. She made him promise never to say those six words unless it was absolutely necessary. Unless he had no other choice.

For as long as he could remember, every night, the voice haunted him. Taunted and mocked and urged him. Toby just wanted it to go away.

Toby licked his lips, raised his head and startled at the man standing across the dark expanse of nothingness. Well, it wasn't really nothing, but no matter how long Toby stayed in this room, his eyes never adjusted, he could never see.

"I'd think, you'd have learned your lesson by now, little boy." The shape slowly approached. The shadows around him gathered, clinging to him. The closer he came, the darker his form.

Toby's throat was dry. It was only a voice. Nothing more, there was never a man. Why the change?

Toby swallowed, past the tightness blocking his airways. He scrambled to his feet, pushed his shoulders back and tilted his chin. Toby had no other choice. He spoke, "You have no power over me!"

A guttural hiss sliced through the nothingness as eight candelabras flared to life illuminating the small room. Toby stepped back into the wall as the shadows around the man turned feral, desperately fighting for a spot around the imposing man. Without his sanctuary they'd die a swift death.

The light knew nothing of mercy.

Toby knew nothing but fear.

Sarah promised.

But the man stood there, unaffected. Two ice blue eyes bore into Toby, seeing far more of the child than should be possible. The mismatched pupils sparked a memory, from long ago, in the boy.

But dreams were mercurial: just as they allowed the sensation of hope to fill their dreamer, they stole it back; the harder you grasped at a thought, the further it danced from you. And dreams controlled by a mercurial being, not of the mortal world, were far more tempestuous.

The moss on the wall grew around the young child's body. It held him captive as the man with pale blond hair and mismatched blue eyes approached him.

Toby fought desperately against the moss, his limbs screaming for release, his heart hammering in his throat. With every jerk the moss tightened until Toby couldn't scream – even if no one heard him, the sentiment behind it would have been a comfort.

"Ah, ah child. Don't fight me. I'd hate for you to die, your sister would be so..." The man paused as if tasting a word on his tongue, "heartbroken. You're selfishness is already killing her, you wouldn't want to cause her more pain, would you?"

Toby stilled, blinking as the man's words sunk in. As he relaxed so did the grip of the vicious weeds. Toby's voice was raw and shook with uncertainty, "You can't die in dreams."

The man smiled, slow and sharp, his teeth glinting maliciously. "Perhaps if these dreams belonged to you. Unfortunately for you, they don't. My dreams can be cruel child – I have been generous for four, very long, mortal years. My patience wanes. Time is short Toby and your sister suffers needlessly."

Leather fingers gripped Toby's jaw, twisting his head from side to side. The man leaned closer, the sharp planes of his face filling Toby's vision. "Do as I say and I shall offer you a full live Aboveground. Everything your heart desires will be yours, all I need is eleven words. This disagreement will be forgotten, lost in the junkyard, if you but say your right words."

Toby faltered. There was a lot he wanted but couldn't have. So many toys and stories and _things_ but there was nothing Toby wanted more than to be rid of these dreams, to be rid of this man. To no longer feel this unrelenting fear.

But then...Sarah.

Sarah promised that those words had power. That they were the only ones he should remember, no matter what. She _promised_.

Maybe he didn't do it right.

"_You have no power over me_!"

The grip on his chin tightened, the man's impassive face contorted in rage. It occurred to Toby's young mind that this _thing_ couldn't possibly be human. No human face could hold an expression this horrifying.

Toby whimpered, a slow trickle of warmth slipping down his legs was his measly comfort.

"I believe, idiot boy, that the reverse is true. No mortal's words can affect the Goblin King – yours are no exception. Say that one more time and you will feel my cruelty for a century."

Toby's mind skidded to an abrupt conclusion, "You're – you're the Goblin King!"

"So logic isn't an incapable thing for your weak mind to grasp. Interesting. I believed you were a lost cause."

Confused but emboldened Toby said, "The words are meant for you!"

The Goblin King's thin upper lip curled, his gums and sharp teeth glistened with saliva and, somehow, malice.

"No, you moronic little cretin, they were meant for-" The Goblin King froze. He released Toby, stepped back and looked to the side, seeing something that Toby could not. "Impossible. _Impossible_. I haven't released him! I-"

Toby couldn't hear the Goblin King's tirade; wind rushed past his ears, the world around him undulated in a massive heat wave. Pieces of the stone walls crumbled, the candelabras sputtered and extinguished.

There was nothing left.

Nothing until Toby felt soft fingers smoothing wet hair from his forehead.

Toby's eyes fluttered open to see his saviour. Long black hair tickled his face, brilliant green eyes stared in concern, and pink lips formed nonsensical words of comfort.

Sarah. _His_ Sarah, alive and unharmed, held him, rocking his body back and forth as he cried.

When he calmed down Sarah stripped his sheets and got him new pyjama pants. She didn't scold him for wetting the bed like his Mom would have. She just took care of it, of him. Sarah grabbed his hand and brought Toby into her room, tucked him in, ensuring Lancelot was nestled beneath his chin. She sat beside him and combed her fingers through the tangles of his damp hair. She promised to watch over him.

And Toby knew that he'd _never_ do what the Goblin King wanted.

What Toby didn't know, however, was that this was the second time Sarah saved him from the Goblin King. The first time put her on the path the Goblin King intended, the second time she'd sealed her own fate.


	2. Growing Up, Peter Pan Style

**Disclaimer: Again, none of this belongs to me. Every recognizable character/thing belongs to Jim Henson and his cohorts. **

**The unfamiliar bits? Those are the only thing I claim.**

_**AN: Thank you everyone who reviewed, and put me on their favourites and alerts! It means so much to me.**_

...

Growing up requires sacrifice.

Childish wonder and impulsiveness are the first to go. Then it's narcissism, that sense that the world, all of its inhabitants and every event is solely because of you. The invincibility and fearlessness, unfortunately, fades alongside the narcissism – if you aren't the center of the world you can't possibly be invincible and there is plenty to fear (like the fact that, no, the world doesn't revolve around you). Finally, responsibility and expectations are piled on your aging shoulders until the best you can hope for is to not let the weight of it crush you.

There's certainly no room for childish flights of fantasy.

Sarah Williams, while being perfectly aware of the connotations of growing up, decided she didn't like them. Not only did she dislike them, she loathed them entirely.

She refused to conform.

Sarah's face thinned, her body curved but her physical changes marked her aging in a way her attitude did not.

For how could narcissism fade when she had conquered the Labyrinth?

Childish wonder and impulsiveness governed her actions – logic (of any adult kind) had no place in her mind. She displaced expectations and responsibility with a casual flick of a wrist.

Perhaps that's why she refused to continue her education. The thought of it bored her. She'd much rather babysit (though never again did she wish a child away). Babysitting was a means to an end; she earned enough money to travel at her leisure.

She began marking the passage of time in halves: six months at home, six months away. The pendulum of her existence swung back and forth with the steady grace of her hand.

There were ways she did grow: worldly knowledge and experience, _womanly_ knowledge and experience, and a newly developed mischievous nature. But, most importantly, Sarah Williams stopped lying.

A feat to be sure since most adults never did. Sarah, unique as always, refused to lie, to anyone, including her seven year old younger brother who gripped her hand even in sleep.

Sarah pushed the soft wisps of blonde hair from his forehead and frowned at the deep purple smudges under his eyes. She sat for six hours and thirteen minutes at his bedside.

Every second reverberated through a vicious pain that chewed at her shoulder blades. She tried cracking her back, rolling her shoulders and stretching all to no avail.

She needed to lie down.

The only respite for the ever increasing pain was sleep. To lay back and let the sensation ebb and flow until she was lost. Sarah wanted to spend as much time with Toby as possible before she left for the ever-changing sands of Egypt in five days. She wouldn't get any sleep today.

So, Sarah cracked her back once more, rolled her shoulders and waited for her brother to wake.

"Sarah?" Her name, muttered shyly from the boy resting in her bed, caught her attention.

An easy smile graced her lips as she mimicked his tone, "Toby?"

The boy chewed his lower lip, moved his eyes away from hers and muttered, "Thank you."

"For what? I wanted you all to myself last night. Your room was much too far away."

"It's across the hall."

"Like I said, too far away." She winked.

For a moment Toby lay motionless, looking at her with an adoration only young children could harness. He jerked himself into a sitting position, ripped his hand from hers only to fling himself into her arms. His lips moved against her hair, his soft words warming her heart, "I love you Sarah."

Sarah held her brother tightly, she knew only too well that soon he would grow up; soon he wouldn't want to spend time with her, wouldn't hug her or say I love you anymore.

_Such a pity_.

A wry smile twisted her lips at the thought. If only the Goblin King could see her now, his pity would find no home in her.

...

"Sarah?" Karen, her still wicked step-mother, called her as she placed the phone in its cradle.

"I'm two feet away from you, is calling like that necessary?"

Karen set her chin, "I was going to tell you Mrs. Hale needs a babysitter tonight-"

"Can't. I've got a date." Sarah tossed an impish glance at Toby who snorted, spitting his milk back into his bowl of cereal.

"Really Toby, manners speak of a good upbringing. Don't let people think I didn't raise you right." Karen admonished her son, turning back to Sarah she continued, several creases marring her features, "The least you could do, if you're going to be such an unproductive member of society is take every job that comes your way."

"Karen?" Sarah questioned, widening her eyes and pushing her lower lip out, "I thought you wanted me to have dates. Didn't you say that? And I finally do! I thought you'd be happy. He's blue-eyed, blonde, an excellent dancer, the love of my life and absolutely gorgeous!"

Karen looked torn. Sarah smirked around a sip of apple juice.

Toby, on the other hand, whined, "_Sarah_!"

"What?" She looked between her still baffled step-mother and disgusted brother. Sarah rose from the table, drained her glass, tossed it in the sink and grabbed Toby's hand, dragging him from the kitchen. "You are!"

Sarah knew that Karen, with her usual sharp minded efficiency, wouldn't understand what happened until Sarah and Toby were halfway to the park.

At the park, the two of them settled into a blissful silence. Toby read from a red, leather-bound book while Sarah fabricated a crown for herself made of flowers. After, she elaborately braided her long black hair, weaving flowers throughout. Occasionally, she looked at her brother, watching as he frowned or rubbed his head or shuddered.

The last action worried her more than she cared to admit. Toby poured over the thin book with a single-minded determination that must be in the Williams genes it was so prevalent. She'd never seen him like this. But she'd never pressed Toby to share his thoughts, to tell her anything, not even of his nightmares.

She knew all about things you couldn't share.

Toby caught her eye. "This book keeps saying words have power."

"They do." She cast her mind back, remembering a softly glowing moment where her dreams were held in leather clad hands. "That's why you have to be very, very careful of what you say."

Toby glared between the book and his sister. Coming to a decision, he flung the book away from him. "No they don't."

"Toby!" Sarah dropped the flower she'd been twirling between her fingers as she scrambled towards the book. She wrapped the gaping sleeves of her dress around her hand, brushing dirt from red leather.

Sarah regarded her brother, _if only he knew_. If only he knew the power words could have. If only he knew what her words did for him.

Her words gained friends who helped her along the Labyrinth. Her words felled the Goblin King. Her words saved them both.

"What? It's just a stupid book." He wouldn't meet her eyes. She almost missed his softly muttered words, "It isn't real."

"Oh, Toby." Sarah sighed; it was far too soon for him to lose his belief. She wasn't ready, not yet. "It's real if you believe it is."

Toby turned towards her, a lock of his unruly hair falling across his left eye. The magnitude of anguish in his eyes tormented her. He gestured his hands wildly, "If I stop believing in all of it...will _He_ go away?"

The ache in her shoulders intensified, a gnarled, clawing _thing_ crept up her throat. The hair all over her body stood at attention, her heart stopped before resuming in a stuttering staccato. She never feared for herself, not anymore, but her brother...her brother was another matter entirely.

Sarah couldn't bring herself to demand clarification. If she did, Toby would ask her questions and she would tell him, there'd be no way to twist her words around this one.

"If I-" Toby stopped, his eyes widening as he looked over Sarah's shoulder. Sarah whirled around.

Standing beside the great grey statue was an impossibly handsome man: the ethereal planes of his face, far too symmetrical and perfect for any human, framed dark eyes and hair; judging by the statue, he stood at least six feet tall.

He bent at the waist, offering Sarah and Toby a deep bow, before he spoke, "The flower blossoms look lovely against their midnight backdrop fair maiden."

Toby made a disgusted noise behind her but Sarah stared this man up and down, clutching the small object in her hands. She'd seen him before – several times, in fact, when she really thought on it – though, she'd only ever seen half-glimpses of his face. They were enough to identify him now.

Sarah tilted her head, "You've been following me."

The stranger pressed his lips together; a lock of his hair swung from the fluffed mess on his head down to his ear, a little light clutched the end of it. No, not a light, it was a fairy. The tiny creature whispered something in his ear and the stranger's pressed lips split in an otherworldly grin.

Toby gasped, he must see it too. Sarah thought she was the only one. Perhaps the Labyrinth affected her baby brother too.

"What do you seek Miss Williams? Those who travel always have a purpose."

She never lied but that didn't mean Sarah always told the truth either. Words had power and without the right question, or too many words to draw from... "A girl needs no other purpose besides revelling in the delights of her freedom."

The fairy wrapped his brown hair around its midsection and swung. It swished back and forth with a small twinkling sound. The man took two steps towards them, "In my experience, girls have many things they don't need."

Ah, so he wasn't as stupid as most. Fine, Sarah could do better. Let him decipher this one, "I seek the road. And you, what is your purpose?"

The man laughed. "I like you, Miss Williams. You overcome your handicap well. All of my respect, unfortunately, is not enough to make me answer your question and I am not bound to do so."

"Handicap? I'm not handicapped!" Sarah stood, knuckles white around the novel in her grasp. "Do you even know who you're talking to, creature of the Underground?"

"Of course I do. As you clearly noticed, I've followed you." The fairy in his hair tied the strand in knots, made an odd chirping sound and two more fairies leapt off his head to swing on his hair. He didn't seem to notice.

"Sarah," Toby tugged at her long green dress, "are those _really_ fairies in his hair."

Her face softened, "Yes."

"_Cool_." Toby breathed.

"If you place your hand, palm up, Twinkle will come to you." The stranger offered with a kind smile.

Sarah stepped in front of Toby, "I think not! Those nasty little things bite!"

She hoped Hoggle still neutered the disgusting parasites.

"Awe, Sarah!" Toby whined, trying to get out from behind her but Sarah anticipated his moves with ease, blocking every one.

Finally she whirled, grabbing his arms she slowly intoned. "Toby, stop that. This isn't time for-" Sarah stopped herself, realizing that now, actually, was the perfect time for games. "Go into those trees, find me a stick with no bark, no branches and when placed vertically on the ground, reaches your hip. Do it and you can _keep_ the fairy."

Toby, despite his lethargy, took off, running into the trees like a child possessed. Which he was, Sarah thought with affection.

"That was terribly cruel of you." She turned back towards the dark stranger, he was smiling at her in the strangest way, "He's far too young to understand that sort of riddle."

Sarah traced her teeth with her tongue, lowering her lashes she purred, "But you aren't. Are you?"

The slight dilation of the stranger's pupils was his only reaction. The three fairies swinging in his hair glowed red before swinging back up into the fluffy mess to hide.

Sarah closed the five feet between them, dancing slightly as she walked towards him, her hips swaying in time with her delicate steps. This would be fun. She hadn't tested this sort of game on an Underground creature before; they couldn't stay long in this world of unbeliever's.

Fearless as ever, but far more mature in other ways, Sarah didn't hesitate to press herself against the stranger, her lips hovered at his jaw. She nearly laughed as both terror and shock battled for dominance. Shock won and his face sparkled with its red light. Or wait, that light emanated from the fairies hiding themselves in his hair but not hiding their fury nearly as well.

"It's not often I meet such handsome strangers in this park." The heat of his skin hovered centimetres from her lips but Sarah felt no desire. Her body refused to react, her voice and body language, she knew, told the stranger otherwise. "Will you, will you follow me home tonight?"

She felt his breathing go unsteady, the way his heart beat against her side like a caged animal, the way the light surrounding his head undulated between red and green, sort of like Christmas. She giggled.

Emboldened and powerful, Sarah Williams traced a lone finger over the column of his throat, down his poet shirt only to stop at the top of his tights. Pulling at the base of his poet's shirt, she whispered, "Can you solve my riddle? A bare stick, no branches that rests near you hip? Solve it, tell me your name stranger and I'll let you in tonight."

Her voice, she knew, promised many things. None that she would keep, of course, but he needn't know that. Sarah learned on her travels about men disregarding women as powerless, physically and mentally the weaker sex. There were too many women who, secretly, believed in this separation of worth.

The only mental blockade women had was thinking like that. While men may be physically stronger, no man could bring a woman to heel as fast or willingly as a female aware of her own power. Men were slaves to their desire.

Creatures of the Underground were no different. She didn't see it at fifteen but even Hoggle and Didymus were examples – falling all over themselves to help a pretty girl in need. And back then, she hadn't known what she could do.

"I-I can't." He faltered.

"Your name, knowing your name, would bring me such pleasure." Sarah waged a silent war in her head before slowly and firmly pressing her lips against his jaw, "You want that don't you. When only one person enjoys something, half the magic is lost."

Her tongue darted between her lips to touch his skin, he opened his mouth. Sarah, on the verge of cheering in triumph, almost missed the shiny crystal that hovered behind the stranger's head.

A tremor racked her body as she stepped from the stranger who blinked in bewilderment, his hair still flashing red and green.

Leather clad fingers and the hint of a ruffled white sleeve reached from the orb, grabbed the stranger around the back of the neck and hauled the creature of the Underground backwards. The stranger's tall form shrunk and twisted as he swirled backwards into the crystal. He never screamed.

The shinning orb hovered after he was gone, flashed red and green once before erupting in a shower of glitter. The substance coated her from head to toe; automatically she licked her lips to rid the area of the tiny granules. The glitter tasted like wild magic, her dreams and, disturbingly enough, peaches.

"Damn it all!" Sarah screamed, stomping her foot and shaking her head. Her two thick braids loosened and several flowers fell around her. "You could have waited until he told me his name you inconsiderate, arrogant bastard!"

She needed his name to have power over him, to make him pay for bringing the Underground to Toby – for offering Toby to touch a piece of it. For inviting the Goblin King to, if only for a split second, be near her again.

Sarah needed to know who that man was and why he was following her.

She didn't think she'd have a chance like that again. Especially if the wretch was under the Goblin King's control. _He_ wouldn't let one of his own be tricked by her, not twice.

Sarah tried to rub at the aching between her shoulder blades, letting out a soft moan as she reached a part of it; she wondered why it seemed so much worse now.

She needed a long bath and a good night's sleep.

But first, she needed to put a stop to Toby's impossible quest.

...

"You snivelling ingrate! I should tear the very flesh from your body and force you to bathe in the Bog of Eternal Stench before forcing a seamstress to sew your skin back on! You should feel the torment of having that festering cesspool breeding under your skin for eternity!" Jareth wanted a fate far worse for his formerly trusted advisor, these, his promises, were generous – only because Kade served him well for several centuries.

It was a pity, training the help was so taxing. Finding a replacement for Kade would be tedious at best, life-ending at worse (for how many of his subjects he didn't know yet).

The goblins cavorted about his throne room like careless accessories. They twittered, the occasional giggle breaking over their almost quiet noise. His _court_ wanted to know Kade's punishment. They enjoyed his wrath whether directed towards them or another. They weren't picky. It was the only reason he allowed the chickens to wander about his throne room.

If the goblins allowed the chickens to wander anywhere near his personal wing, however, they were gutted and tossed into his Bog faster than one could say 'Goblin King'. And Jareth usually stopped to grin at his own brilliance when others spoke his title making his completing the act, very fast indeed – by the time someone said Gob- he was basking.

It might be a character flaw, always stopping whenever he felt someone, either above or underground speak his title but it didn't happen very often as everyone was terrified of him. Since it was rare, it couldn't be a character flaw; to relish the way his name escaped from lips in petrified, awed whispers was his sovereign right. He deserved recognition.

"My King?" Kade questioned, shaking Jareth from his thoughts.

"Shut up. I'm thinking of an appropriate punishment, one that actually fits the crime committed."

Nothing fit, not after the way his advisor pawed at _his_ Sarah. Death, being far too merciful, was ruled out immediately. None of it was enough! Not his Oubliettes, his Bog, his Nightmare River, or his Disembodied Forest

Jareth tapped his ridding crop against his leather boot.

"Your majesty, if I may?" Kade, head bowed and deference in every line of his posture, asked. His fairies were unusually subdued. Even they seemed contrite.

Good.

Jareth waved his crop in a deceptively careless way, "You're already speaking."

"I appreciate your kindness Sire."

"Well...get on with it. I don't have all day."

Several goblins snickered, one, a particularly courageous creature, still young to this new life (young as in turned yesterday) laughed harder, "'Course he's got all day, he don't do nothing but stare in his crystals and-"

Whatever else the Goblin King did was never declared as a crystal impacted against the chest of the creature. In an iridescent cloud of glitter the tiny thing, all wiry red hair and upturned nose, vanished.

His goblin peers looked towards their King. "Well...laugh."

And like all good courtiers, Jareth thought (with reluctant fondness), they obeyed without question, moved to hilarity knowing their newest member had been deported to the Bog of Eternal Stench.

Jareth regarded Kade coldly. He waved his crop for the Fae to continue.

Respectfully, Kade's eyes didn't meet those of his angry sovereign. "Sire, my humblest apologies. I tried talking to Miss Williams and her brother, I even tried to garner favour with the boy when Miss Williams seemed reluctant. As you saw, she handles herself remarkably well, for one with her condition. But Sire, I never expected her too... She is mercurial, dangerous and admirably clever."

Jareth listened languidly as Kade tried explaining himself, until that point. He flicked his wrist, twirled the crystal in his hand and threw it at Kade's feet. Sarah in her flowing green dress with gaping sleeves and embroidery – not an outfit that fit aboveground, not anymore, but one that pleased him greatly – appeared, the circlet of flowers a crown upon her glorious hair. She walked towards Kade, her hips beckoning sinfully to be grabbed, to be owned.

"You thought to taste her first then?" Jareths voice shook with emotion, interpreted by those around him as anger, but was nothing more than a ravaging lust that shocked him senseless. Sarah was only an illusion, his illusion. Falser than any woman in all of Underground, his illusion inflamed a response in him stronger than the storm at the beginning of time. A storm which created the Above and Underground as well as their respective inhabitants.

He worried what seeing her, in the flesh, would do to him. Destroy him, probably, like she always did – but what a way to go.

The Goblins around the room stilled, staring at Sarah's ghostly form as she caressed Kade. Jareth never knew them to be so quiet.

"Jareth, _please_, I didn't know what to do!"

Jareth couldn't bask as his entire being lurched at his name. The electrical current of it coursed through his veins, forcing him to listen.

The goblins booed and hissed upon hearing their sovereign's name. Some clapped their hands over their ears. Some snapped their mouths shut. One, unfortunate little bugger, bit off his own finger (he didn't cry out because losing a finger was better than losing a finger _and_ the Bog).

"You didn't know what to do? You didn't know what to do!" Jareth stood from his seat, his careless countenance shed like any one of his disguises to reveal the extent of his rage. "Why not do what I asked? Hmm? Or would that be too hard for a moron such as you? You could have treated her like the Queen she is instead of a harlot from one of the Courts! She is _not_ a plaything. Not yours, anyway."

"My King, my friend, you know what happened. You see it even know." Kade choked his words beyond his closing throat. His hands shook at his sides as Illusion Sarah re-enacted the moves of her real life counterpart.

Jareths upswept eyebrows descended low over his hooded eyes as he watched his temptress touch another man. He cocked his head, fighting against her effect on him, only to see exactly what his friend wanted him too.

He dispelled his illusion, a slight hesitance in the gesture the only sign of his reluctance. His mind cleared, Kade relaxed and the Goblins resumed their inebriated chatter and prancing about his throne room like the mindless things they were.

"I see. This is...rather unexpected." But Sarah had been doing a lot of unexpected things lately, last night, it seemed was the lesser of two necessary evils. He hoped the rest wouldn't be so hard to bear stoically. He had a reputation to maintain, after all.

Jareth flicked his wrist, plucking the crystal from thin air. He watched as Sarah found her brother, explained that the stranger left suddenly and promised to act out a story of his choosing later that night. Toby – the little brat – remarked on how sparkly Sarah was. To describe it Toby referenced her appearance as being 'otherworldly'.

His fingers closed around the crystal, crushing the globe into shimmery dust. A sharp, predatory grin teased the edges of his lips. "Your punishment Kade of the Kismet clan," – Jareth paused to watch his friend's body stiffen and prepared itself to obey his every order; names were dangerous things, especially whole ones – "is to force Toby's hand. Three days, my friend, and I won't sever you inch by inch before tossing your pieces into the Disembodied Forest so you can spend eternity trying to put yourself back together again."

"You are far too generous my King."

Jareth sunk indolently into his throne; he grabbed the nearest goblin by the scruff of its neck, stared at its unfortunate features and unseemly warts. The creature smiled – chicken feathers, dirt and bug legs were caught in the cracks of rows upon rows of tiny yellow teeth.

"Of that, I am far too aware." Jareth replied, flinging the creature out the window. His subjects needed to learn a thing or two about hygiene.

...

_I'd love to hear your thoughts! Any tips or questions are welcomed and I'll make sure I get back to you. _


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